The Waking World
by Selenity15
Summary: Sarah forgets it all. But as she remembers, something doesn’t quite fit, & she becomes obsessed with finding the truth. Which is that Jareth is still ready to offer her everything. But there’s always been a catch-and it’s pushing her to the edge. JS
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah's family noticed a distinct change in her over the course of several months. They remarked that she was finally growing up, that she was finally putting all childish things behind her. They attributed this to the fact that her sixteenth birthday was fast approaching. This was why she had stopped playing fantasy games.

However, they failed to realize that it was an encounter with the true fantasy that had sent her spiraling in the opposite direction....

-----

The day after, Sarah had woken up in her own bed. She groggily rolled over, turned off the alarm (it was a weekend after all), and lay back, wondering at the amazing dream that she had had.

Then she bolted upright, remembering. It hadn't been a dream.

Her first instinct was to throw on her robe and check on Toby. But she curbed it, instead hurriedly getting into her robe and walking downstairs to breakfast as if nothing was wrong. She entered the kitchen.

Nothing was wrong. Her father was reading the newspaper, and her stepmother was feeding Toby, who sat in his highchair. The sun was shining, and the whole thing looked the picture of perfect life.

"Good morning, Sarah," her stepmother said.

Suddenly, something in Sarah clicked. It just didn't matter anymore. "Good morning." She paused. "I have something to say. I--I've been horrible to everyone lately. I don't know why. But I hope you can forgive me. I don't hate you, I don't hate Toby, I...I just feel that you don't understand me."

"Sarah, I think that's perfectly natural at your age," her father said, having set down his newspaper.

Her stepmother nodded. "I don't try to be mean to you, I really don't, but--"

"But I always see it that way," Sarah finished. "I'm sorry."

"Did something happen last night, Sarah?" her father asked.

"No. No, just that Toby and I...bonded or something." She forced herself to smile. "He finally got to me, I guess."

"Sit down, dear, and I'll fix you some waffles."

Her favorite. Sarah sat down. This wasn't her mother, she never would be. But it suddenly struck Sarah that she wasn't there to make her life a living hell, either. She could deal with it.

-----

Breakfast went pleasantly, more pleasantly than any that she could remember. Afterwards, Sarah took a nice hot bath, and then even gave Toby a bath. She quickly changed, put her wet hair up, and was actually about to go offer to help with any chores when something occurred to her.

There was something that she was avoiding. What was it?

She suddenly stopped in the hallway and looked at her closed door. She stared for what seemed like hours before she moved, once again intent on doing something--anything.

-----

It was a full week before she forced her mind to answer the question. _Did it happen?_ It had to, it must have; even she couldn't have dreamt that up. She remembered everything, every detail.

Sarah forced herself to go into her room. Not that she hadn't been in there to sleep and such--but in, out, and never spend any length of time within seemed to be her current rule. She used to lock herself in her room for hours on end, but now it almost made her sick to look around. It was dizzy, clouded, so many things made her think of so many things. Everything reminded her of something. She found herself sitting at her desk, looking into the depths of her room through the mirror.

"Hoggle," she heard her voice saying, small, detached.

Nothing happened. She waited.

"Ludo? Sir Didymus?"

No response.

Sarah remembered it, she remembered the end, what they had said, and when they had been here...or at least she thought she did. She hit the mirror with her hand, hard. "Work, damn you!" she shouted at it.

Nothing. Her dresser shook and ornaments fell, but that was all.

In a daze, Sarah found herself out in the garage, asking her father for some boxes. In a daze, she found herself packing things up, as if her body were running on automatic. Her posters, her books, her pictures, her figures, her toys, her dolls--not only things which reminded her, but anything childish. It all went to the attic.

Her room wasn't bare--far from it--but it suddenly seemed very impersonal, like the room that one keeps for a guest. That was fine with her.

When asked about it by her family, she had only answered that she was tired of all of it. She had expected more questioning than that, but they accepted it. It was only natural for them to assume that she would finally tire of such things.

And it was only a dream, she decided, a fanciful diversion she had made up and carried out in her games and in her sleep. It was time to move on. And if it wasn't, there still wasn't much that she could do about it, was there? But it _was_ only a dream, a game, a dream that seemed more and more distant as the weeks went by. And Toby was fine. If it had happened, he would have been unfine for days, surely. Though, despite that fact that it became more and more muddled, there were parts that stood out with perfect clarity. But then again, she could say the same of any vivid dream.

It never happened. Even if a small, tiny, minuscule part of her wanted for it to have happened, it never happened.

-----

The problem is, as is with anything to do with the mind, that the mind is a peculiar entity. It can convince one that something did happen; it can convince one that something did not happen. It can play tricks unto itself, and sometimes--sometimes--even it doesn't know what it may do, or when it may break.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

She had just turned seventeen. And she was a completely different person. Or so her family thought. She wasn't really that different, but she had diverted her attentions to more productive things.

Sarah still didn't have any close friends, and she was still a loner. She still spent hours in her room or in the park. And she was still an avid reader. But now she read other things. Currently she was devouring book after book by Jane Austen, and before that it had been Dickens. And of course, hours were spent on homework. She still never went out, but she never complained about watching Toby.

Not a completely normal teenager, but normal enough.

Presently, she was helping her father and stepmother with the weekend project of moving Toby into his own room. He had long outgrown the crib, and it was decided that he was a big enough boy now to have his own bed. They had also decided that this would be a perfect opportunity to completely clean and rearrange their own room. The task of moving Toby was practically complete, and now Sarah stood with the vacuum cleaner, ready to sweep as they moved all the furniture to the center of the room.

They had just finished the moving a tall dresser, when her stepmother frowned and bent to look at something on the floor.

"Why, what's this?" she asked. "Something of yours, Sarah?"

Sarah looked at what she held, and impulsively tightened her grip on the vacuum's handle. Suddenly her blood ran cold. She was sure it was draining away from her face even as she stood there.

It was a perfect crystal, a clear sphere just the ideal size for holding in one's hand. It caught the light, but reflected nothing.

_It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way--_

"Sarah?"

Sarah frowned, as if considering. "Oh that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yes. Toby must have gotten it sometime, and then lost it under the dresser."

Her stepmother was holding out the crystal to her.

"Oh, just put it up with my other stuff in the attic," she said, shrugging.

"All right," she said cheerfully, handing the crystal to Sarah's father, who put it in a pile with other things that were going up to the attic later.

They resumed their cleaning.

-----

Sarah sat at her window, looking out at the yard, which rolled down to the park that their line of houses sat against. The sky was dark overhead, and only a sliver of the moon hung in the sky.

She had been in a dream all day. She was still in a dream.

But was _it_ a dream?

-----

Every day after that brought the question. Every day after that brought the pendulum of her thoughts. Every day was vacillation. Trying to remember? Trying to forget? It ruled her thoughts completely. The crystal, the crystal. One day it was only another part of her game, a part that just hadn't gotten packed away with her room. The next day it was undeniable proof.

Finally, one day when her father and stepmother had gone out, Sarah couldn't stand it anymore and went up to the attic. She had to at least touch it. She opened her old boxes and poured through them, her eyes not seeing anything that wasn't the crystal. She found nothing, which only panicked her more. If it had disappeared....

But then one last seed of logic told her to look in the newer things.

Surely enough, she found the crystal still nestled in the pile of her stepmother's clothes that her father had carried up almost a month ago.

Holding it in her hands as though it might do something at any moment, Sarah carried it downstairs. She found herself in Toby's room, where he was sitting in the floor playing with some toy trucks.

She knelt down to him and rolled him the crystal. He immediately dropped the truck and reached for the crystal with both hands. Toby picked it up gleefully and smiled at her.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no..." she heard herself muttering.

A vision, a memory, suddenly. _Toby on the ceiling, Toby on the stairs, Toby catching the crystal_... She got Toby, did he still have the crystal then? Still? Still have? But that would mean....

Sarah put her hands to her head. No! If it hadn't been a dream, it would have been so much clearer! She would have remembered it for longer! Or maybe she would have, if she hadn't tried so hard to convince herself to forget. Things like that simply didn't happen to people.

Quickly she scooped up the crystal from Toby, who let it go as eagerly as he had picked it up. It out of sight and out of mind, he returned to his trucks. Sarah locked the high gate behind her, and flew into her own room, shutting the door. She stared at the crystal from every angle, she shook it, she shouted at it. What she was trying to accomplish she wasn't sure.

A sign, perhaps, any sign that would confirm that she hadn't gone insane. Of course--the thought came to her--there was one way that she could check for certain. All she had to do was--No! She wouldn't, not again.

She slumped at her desk, stared at herself in the mirror. Stared at herself staring in the mirror. Stared at herself staring in the mirror staring in the crystal. Suddenly, in a rage, she stood up and threw the crystal at the mirror as hard as she could, shattering them both.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

When Sarah's father and stepmother returned home, they thought that Sarah truly had gone insane. Toby was still in his room, oblivious to everything else around him. But Sarah was nowhere to be found. Upon knocking and then tentatively entering her room, they found every mirror smashed. Then they had smelled the smoke.

-----

Sarah had stormed up to the attic, racing back down with her arms full of boxes. She wanted it gone. Everything. Suddenly the idea came that it wasn't enough to get rid of them, give them away. Sarah wanted these things eradicated from existence. If she couldn't have it, then no one could.

She was in a blind fury at something that she couldn't pinpoint. She knew that it had happened. She had just denied it. And now it was denying her. And she was angry. It had happened. And now she wanted none of these things that reminded her of it. It wouldn't talk to her, it wouldn't let her back--not without doing something that she might forever regret. It wasn't fair. Now all she wanted was to take her revenge on something, anything.

She raked the yard clean of leaves, pulling them into the darkened spot at the edge where her father always burned them. Once they were crackling, she began to feed her possessions to the fire one at a time. First the posters, then the stuffed animals, then the dolls. All of it. She had emptied the boxes until all that had remained was her copy of _The Labyrinth_. Sarah held it up to toss it in with the rest of the things, but an errant thought flashed through her head. Don't, not yet, you're missing something.

Slowly she lowered her hand, and stuck the book inside her shirt. That was when she heard a noise behind her. Her father and stepmother, both standing there with looks of confused horror on their faces.

Sarah walked past them without a word, leaving the charring remains of her childhood on the ground.

-----

She never noticed the owl perched in the limbs far overhead, quietly watching.

-----

Not surprisingly, they sent her to a psychologist as soon as they could get her in. And Sarah, now that whatever-it-had-been was completely out of her system, was at a loss as to what to say. The psychologist himself seemed at a bit of a loss, in Sarah's opinion.

Her father had reported that she had never had any problems before, and that she was back to acting perfectly normal. Indeed, Sarah seemed perfectly normal again. Her sessions were private, but that didn't help any. She didn't know what to say. And the tests confirmed all the things that she wasn't. No, she wasn't on drugs; no, she wasn't suicidal; no, she didn't have any imbalances. However, Sarah saw that if she didn't say something, she was going to be here for the rest of her life.

So she settled on the truth. At least as much of the truth as she could say without them thinking that she really had gone crazy. She told the doctor that she knew why she had done it, and that she would just say it. Well, why hadn't she before, he wanted to know?

"Will you tell my parents?" she asked.

"It all depends. You are a minor, but if there's nothing that I feel that they need to know about, nothing self-destructive or detrimental...."

"I did it because I was angry."

He nodded, prompting her.

"I had packed up those things because I wanted to get rid of them. They reminded me of something. I wanted to forget it, I think. I put it all behind me. But then, the other day, I found one piece that got left out. And I hated it. And suddenly, I wanted it all gone. Not stored, just gone. It's as simple as that."

He nodded. "You wanted revenge? And that was the only way to get it?"

"Yes."

The doctor nodded again, scribbling notes, as if this was all making perfect sense.

However, then he said something that completely threw her.

"It sounds to me like you wanted revenge against some_one_, Sarah, not some_thing_."

Images flew through her mind. Yes, lots of someones. Or maybe just one someone. Not for what he had done, but for what he hadn't done.

But she had to think fast. "That's what I don't want you to tell. I'm sure they told you that all those things were things I used to play games with?" He nodded. "But I didn't play them alone. There was this guy--"

"A boyfriend?"

"No, just someone. But they didn't want me having any guys hanging around, when I was that young. So I didn't tell them. I was almost old enough when I could have, but then he left. I got angry and I packed everything away after that. I never saw him again. The other day, I found something he gave me." Sarah finished, hoping that she wouldn't have to make up/go into any further details.

But the doctor seemed satisfied. In fact, he gave her a clean bill of health, accompanied by some psycho mumbo-jumbo spoken to her father and stepmother.

And as much as she hated to admit it, the visits to the psychologist had helped Sarah sort something out--why exactly she had been angry. True, she had tried to make herself believe it was only a dream, convince herself that it didn't happen. Who wouldn't, really? But when she had remembered, and had shouted out to anything, anyone, the only answers were silence. Who was she shouting to? Anyone that could hear her, of course.

Though who knows how far her voice could really carry?

But who had the most power to hear her, everything else aside?

The Goblin King.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Life went on. It had to. No matter if she felt angry or depressed, life went on. And Sarah found that it was too hard being angry or depressed all the time. And long ago, she had given up talking to anyone or anything that might hear her. In the back of her mind, she knew there was always something that she could say that would get attention, but she didn't want that. Not anymore.

So life went on.

Sarah entered her senior year of high school, and was far from the little girl that she had been. Even though not popular, she was soon caught up in all of the things that catch people up in high school. Even without close friends (and still never having a boyfriend), she was happy. She looked at college brochures, was in the drama club, the art club, and she listened while people gossiped. She even went to the prom, picking out a dress eerily similar to one she had worn once in a dream. The boy she went with was only an acquaintance, but that was fine, and nothing more than she wanted. Sarah thought about what to major in at college--something in the arts, but she wasn't sure what.

Life went on.

Until one day at lunch.

She was sitting with three of her school friends (so-called because she never saw them outside of school), and they had finished the remainders of what had been procured from the vending machines. One of the girls' boyfriends had just broken up with her that morning, and needless to say, she wasn't having a good day. In an effort to cheer her up, the others had started badmouthing guys in general. This had eventually turned into a conversation on the qualities of the perfect man.

"So, Sarah," one of them said, "you've never even dated. What kind of guy are you holding out for?"

"I really have no idea," she said distantly, truthfully.

"He would have to be smart," another girl said, "and funny. Really nice."

"Or someone who's really good at sports."

"How about someone who calls you every night and brings you flowers on your birthday?"

The girl who had gotten dumped looked up. "But John did all of those things. He was all of that, and still...nothing." She sighed. "The perfect man? The perfect man would dote on no one but me, he would do anything I wanted just because I asked it, he would give me everything just to make me his. He'd be able to offer me the stars themselves."

"Well, that _would_ be nice," the first girl said. "Not gonna happen though."

"Yeah, I know," the girl sighed.

Then the bell rang, and they divided to go to class. Sarah's mind was still half on their conversation. Suddenly, something mental struck her.

_Everything that you wanted I have done_..... _I have reordered time_. _I have turned the world upside-down_. _And I have done it all for you!_

Oh my god, the thought swept through her. Had it been that simply put?

Another sudden thought occurred to her: was he why she had never dated? No, not specifically, but now that Sarah considered it, no one else had ever left such a lasting impression on her. Others would forever only be pale shadows to his intensity. And no one else could ever measure up to those things offered.

Those things offered.... How had she not heard those words as they sounded now?

Because she had been just a child caught up in playing her fantasy. Playing her fantasy when there might have been so much more around her if she had just looked, just listened.

_The Laybrinth_. She had to read the book as soon as she got home.

-----

Several hours later, Sarah flung the finished book across her room, feeling more confused than ever. She knew there was something that had kept her from burning it, some nagging thing in the back of her mind. And this was it: besides there being a Labyrinth, a baby, and a Goblin King, the story had nothing in common with her own adventure.

What had happened to her was not the book.

The book was in script format, and she had taken so much trouble to learn the heroine's lines, that she had really forgotten what the rest of the story contained. It was a play, the story of a young mother who was so overwrought that she accidentally wished her baby away in a fit of despair one night. The goblins had come, and the desperate woman had pleaded (to no avail, of course). She had been given the same chance, and had taken it.

Except that the Labyrinth in this case had been the palace itself, a dark and twisting thing where she wandered alone for most of the allotted hours. Many times she encountered the Goblin King in his castle, encounters that were suggestive and suspenseful, but that ultimately led to nothing. But she eventually defeated him and won back her child, being instantly transported away.

Looking at it now, Sarah could identify it as Gothic--stories that were usually set in a haunted or mysterious castle, with a young woman often in distress. Yes, Gothic, but what did that matter?

It was so _little_ like the Labyrinth that she had experienced. The words to call the Goblin King weren't even the same--instead of being simple and straightforward, they were dramatic and theatrical sounding. And none of the offers that had been made to her were made in the play. She hadn't even realized it at the time, so intent had she been on solving it and playing her part.

This was a completely different story. The same basic elements, but a completely different story.

Though there was something else that Sarah noticed, during this revisited reading. While there was most definitely a Goblin King, his lines were only listed by "Goblin King," and he was only called "Goblin King." The name Jareth didn't appear once.

And for some reason, this disturbed Sarah most of all.


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: As for the possibility/idea that the book _The Labyrinth_ that Sarah reads, and the real Labyrinth are different-- Has anyone else noticed that the first words that come to Sarah's mind to wish Toby away are incorrect? "I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!" Even the listening goblins want to know: "Where'd she learn that rubbish?" In fact, Sarah seems at a loss as to what to really say: "I wish I did know what to say to make the goblins take you away."

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah became a woman possessed. She felt that there was some answer to find, some thing she only had to lay her hands on to make perfect sense. She was once again obsessed with the Labyrinth. And if there was a play about it, surely there must be more about it somewhere.

She began spending entire weekends at libraries. This library, that library, the library the town over, the nearby college's library. She told her family she was going to study and read. They believed her. Why wouldn't they? And she was going to study and read, but not on schoolwork.

For some reason, Sarah had thought it would be easy. Just go in, sit down, look a few things up, etc. But she soon found that this was a monumental task she had taken on. Looking through card catalogues, databases, and searches, _The Labyrinth_ never appeared. She found plenty out about the myths of the Greeks, and a vague part of her mind realized that even here were common threads. It contained a king (though not a Goblin one), an underground Labyrinth, lost children in the form of sacrifices, and monsters in the maze. This legend also spoke of a heroic defeat, while Sarah knew for a fact that the Labyrinth still existed. And it was too a distant connection; she needed one less than thousands of years old. But the fact that there were legends of this place so long ago sent a shiver down her spine.

This was when she actually pulled the book out of her bag and _looked_ at it. Yes, the cover was torn, and the pages were yellowed. So when...? Opening up the first few pages, Sarah found that the last printing was in 1912, and a rare run at that. The first printing was 1778. She tried to remember exactly how she had come by the book. No wonder no one else had ever seemed to have heard of it.

She then turned to looking up the playwright. It took her five weekends even to find an old article that mentioned him by name. He was not even a footnote to a footnote of any great playwright. Apparently this was the only play that he had ever written, before dying of a fever a year later. And the play had been a complete failure. However, the article did have one useful piece of information. The author had been inspired to write the play after he had become deeply interested in 'tales of true encounters.'

This gave Sarah a new direction in her research. She checked out books by the dozen and poured over them in her room. Books on the occult, books on legends, books on faeries, books on demons, books on gods, books on anything she could possibly relate to the Labyrinth or its King. But none of these helped. Many were only stories, old wives' tales handed down through the generations. And while there was some semblance of connection in the ideas of stolen children, it still didn't seem quite right. All were too vague. She needed something specific. Though what exactly, she wasn't sure.

The only thing she did divine from these books was the fact that many people who had seen such things had become insane. They turned into desperate shells whose only goal was to find that place, that thing which they had once glimpsed. The idea vaguely occurred to her that she could be becoming one of these people. She wasn't out roaming the wilderness searching for hidden doors, but it was obsessing her nonetheless. Though something made Sarah feel that she wasn't quite in others' predicaments.

Time passed like this, with anything that didn't have something to do with the Labyrinth a mere haze. She found her senior year slipping away, but she didn't care. Her own graduation was a blur, but it didn't matter.

-----

And she was much too busy to notice the owl that was sometimes present, perched watching her from outside the windows.

-----

If Sarah had tried to explain to anyone what she was doing, they would have told her that she was crazy, that she was looking for a needle in a haystack. But even now, Sarah never considered the fact that she might not find something. It was inevitable that she would, as long as she kept searching. She would know it when she found it.

She began getting up on Saturday mornings at seven to drive two hours and sit in the big city libraries until dusk, reading the special collections that couldn't be checked out. She could often be found in the oldest part of the library, mulling through books that were printed in preceding centuries.

One library in particular had become her favorite, first for its large collection, but then for its databases. It had access to many search programs that would search for any word contained in any of the things that the library owned, and others that it didn't. It was part of global systems, and countless hours had been passed by someone out there, scanning in and transcribing handwritten letters, documents, diaries, even property records.

Recently, what had interested Sarah the most were old letters and diaries. There were copies of ones from hundreds of years ago, and all she had to do was search. And search she did. The first time she sat down anywhere, she typed in the Goblin King's name. There was something terribly important about that name, that little word, she knew there was. But she found nothing.

Sarah still spent hours over the keyboard, typing in phrases that she thought would lead her to something. But none did.

Until one day when the librarian, a nice black haired woman in her fifties who always waved when she saw Sarah, but never asked her what she was looking for, had stopped her in the hall and said, "Oh, my dear, we've just been hooked up to a new service, InlogE. It's got access to archives from libraries all over Europe. It's available from the two main computers in the archive room. I thought you might like to know."

Sarah thanked her, and immediately went to one of the computers and sat down. She accessed InlogE with the library's codes and began searching. She got results for "goblin."

Many matches popped up, but she wasn't excited, as there were always things for "goblin," just not what she wanted. "Goblin" was usually accompanied "ghoul" or "spirit" or some such thing, none of the time having anything to do with taking children away.

But Sarah clicked on each one, looking at the transcriptions, which were sometimes accompanied by scans of the scrawled documents themselves.

These things were much older than ones she had seen before, and the language became increasingly difficult. But Sarah read the old words slowly, not finding much, until she got to the pages of a diary. It was written by a woman of the late medieval times, and only pieces of a few pages still survived. Most of the language was confusing and archaic, but there was no denying the words that leapt out at her.

"Mine babes...pilfered them...hobgoblins...their king."


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

The diary was written in 1352 by an aristocratic young woman named Margaret Levesque.

Muddling through the printed off pages, and a Middle English dictionary, Sarah had pieced together the story.

In an angry fit, the woman had wished away her two children, a newborn and another of nineteen months. Her wish had been granted. She had been given a chance to retrieve them of course, but she had never made it through the land, where "true paths layeth not." She found herself back in her house without her children, at which point she had recorded this in her diary, or shortly after.

Subsequent visits to the library found that Margaret Levesque was indeed a real person. She was documented in several town ordinances and monastery records, having been committed to a convent when she went insane. It was her husband who committed her, after having supposed that she drowned the children herself, because she was forever searching and wailing in the bog lands past their house.

Sarah was sure that she had found it. This of course wasn't the first telling of stolen children, or even what began old wives' tales, but it was most definitely the inspiration for the later play. It had to be. Obviously the play had been changed, to suit the needs of an audience, for there were no happy endings here.

Sarah felt satisfied with one thing, but not with another. The woman's diary made no mention of Jareth. A Goblin King yes, Jareth no.

The thought never entered Sarah's mind that it was some other king, or that it wasn't Jareth in these stories. What bothered her was that none of them told his name.

_But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it'll show you your dreams_... _But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl_... _Do you want it?_

Look what I'm offering you--your dreams.

Had he said those words before to someone else? She couldn't know. However, Sarah was becoming increasingly certain that no one who had remained in this world after any encounter with the Goblin King had ever learned his name.

Now she searched and poured over ancient poems and stories in any language that she could find, if only even to catch a glimpse of that one word--Jareth. She found none. It was not the name of a myth, a being, even a person. But it was his name.

That meant something, though she wasn't sure what. But why should she have his name when others didn't? Because she had solved the Labyrinth? But she had had it before that. It had to mean _something_. Surely not that--

Of course, she had taken and twisted the play to her own needs when she had been ranting to Toby. There was nothing about the Goblin King being in love with the girl, or giving her powers. It was obvious now that he took any child wished away, no matter by whom. But he had given her his name.

True, he hadn't told it to her, Hoggle had. But was perhaps Hoggle _to_ tell her, whether he knew it or not? The more that Sarah delved into mythology and the old stories, the more powerful things seemed to become. Names in particular had a special power.

And to be undone with a simple sentence such as, "You have no power over me," seemed...odd, in the least. Everything she had read said the exact opposite--that rulers of other realms had absolute power, especially over others within them. "You have no power over me," was also conveniently how the Goblin King had been undone in the (awful) play that she had so loved at the time.

In fact, the more she looked back on it, the easier the Labyrinth seemed. It was almost--almost as if it had all been a play itself. There had been few real dangers, it seemed to her now, especially after reading a true account of another who had been in the Labyrinth less successfully. _The Labyrinth_ the play was obviously unrealistic, something coughed up for the stage, yet Sarah's experience had concluded in exactly the same way, the same lines, though nothing else had been similar, save for the abducted child. Odd.

Sarah remembered what he had said at the end, as clearly as if it were yesterday, as he interrupted her carefully memorized lines.

_Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want_... _Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave_...

He hadn't particularly sounded like someone who was really about to lose everything, now that she thought about it. He had sounded more like someone who was trying to get her to open her eyes.

Indeed, the more Sarah thought about it, the more it seemed that what had happened next happened because she had _wanted_ it to happen, not because it _should_ have happened.

_Everything that you wanted I have done_....

It couldn't be that simple.

But if it was...?

Did she want it? She _had_ never forgotten it.

There was always something about the Goblin King that Sarah couldn't get out of her head. He was the one that she was really angry at when no one would answer her. He was the one she thought of first when she thought of the Labyrinth.

She wasn't pining away for lost love, but there was something inevitable about him that drew her, like an invisible chain in her mind. Her most vivid memories of the Labyrinth centered on her encounters with him--from the beginning, to the end, to the dream-like bubble where they danced.

That characterized it almost perfectly. She had wandered, searching among the dancers for something that she couldn't identify or remember. Only when she had seen him had Sarah felt like she knew where she was. For a fleeting moment she had felt that everything was complete.

Someone that could offer her the stars themselves had been before her. Suddenly, Sarah's forgotten dreams and fantasies flew back into her mind and slammed the door on her present life.

-----

It was past midnight, dark, and quiet. Everyone else in her house was undoubtedly asleep. But Sarah was still dressed, wandering aimlessly around her room, always ending up by the window.

Looking out over the night sky and the sloping yard below, Sarah realized that she wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him. She knew the Labyrinth was real, that he was real, but she had to know if what she remembered was real, or if she was completely deluded. She couldn't move on until she knew, either way.

But it was questionable. There was no way that she knew to call him except one, and she couldn't do that.

Abruptly, Sarah realized that she had never said his name. There was no time like the present, she decided.

"Jareth."


	7. Chapter 7

A few people have asked me if I did any research to write parts of this. The answer is not really; it's just sort of drawn from things I picked up here and there in college. I knew about the Greek story of the Labyrinth from Art History, about Gothic stories from British Lit, and about original sources from a history class, whose teacher taught half the class from a document book of old letters, diaries, speeches, and court records. And I've been forced to learn the ins and outs of libraries. I've known for a while (as many people in this fandom also seem to) faery myths, and have taken the parts from them about stealing children and people who see other worlds being driven mad. 

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Nothing.

"Jareth."

Silence.

"Jareth! Jareth! Jareth!"

No response.

"Fine then!" Sarah said as loud as she dared. She had long ago refused the idea of wishing someone else away for a mere meeting, and she didn't really think that one could really wish themselves away, although-- And perhaps it was a bad idea, but it was in the heat of the moment, and if that was what it took-- And for good measure, she changed the verse just slightly.

"I wish Jareth would come and take me away, right now."

Sarah held her breath. As much as she had wanted to say it, a part of her hadn't wanted to. There was always the distinct possibility that he would show up and do exactly as she'd said. However, there was also the possibility that nothing at all would happen, and if that happened, she felt her world would come crashing down.

But the effect was almost immediate. Sarah felt something behind her. She turned, finding the Goblin King there. He was dressed in black pants and a loose gray shirt, with a black cape rippling behind him; his boots, gloves, and pendant were ever present.

"Sarah, Sarah." He paused. "I must admit, I never thought I'd hear those words from you. But let's be going then."

He sounded the same, looked the same (if perhaps a little less tall). He acted the same, gliding with that slow easy step and watching with that mysterious look in his eye. One could never tell exactly what he was thinking. For a horrible moment, Sarah thought that maybe she had misremembered everything, and had just wished herself into oblivion.

"No. Not yet," she said, her resolve coming back. Memories that plagued her for years couldn't be completely wrong.

"What's said is said," he said, stepping closer. There was an odd sense of déjà vu.

"I want to ask you something."

"What a pity. You shouldn't have phrased that as you did."

"I tried!" she almost shouted. Then, collecting herself, "We should speak more quietly, or somewhere else."

"I wasn't yelling. But as you wish."

One moment they were in her room, and the next they were standing at the Labyrinth's wall.

"No, not here! Not yet."

"We're only still just outside your room," he said pointedly. And there among the sands and sky was her window, floating, with her room visible just inside it. She gaped at the window and then back at him.

"I did not want to come here!"

"You shouldn't have phrased that as you did," he repeated.

"You wouldn't answer me. I even called your name!"

"Sarah... You must get an idea of how these things work. I can only take what's offered, and only do what's asked." He sounded tired, like someone repeating a lecture long given. Upon seeing her blank look, he finished, "You never actually _asked_ to speak to me, now did you?"

"Damn," she said under her breath. Obvious! that should have been obvious to her!

"I tend to have...selective hearing in certain areas," he continued, clearly enjoying this. "You did get my attention when you said my name, but you did not _ask_ anything. However, when you said the words, _with_ my name no less, that most certainly demanded my personal attention." He looked at her with that chilly lopsided smirk. "And you did speak the words. You know what that means by now, surely. Or have we not learned our lesson?"

"Yes, I did, but--"

"I don't make the rules, Sarah," he said wearily, convincingly.

"Yes you do."

He grinned. "Well. However, the rules apply to everyone."

"Or it wouldn't be fair?" she countered. The Goblin King had walked right into that one.

He didn't have a response for her comment, but only a suddenly icy glare.

"You make the rules," she continued. "So? Then you break the rules." She looked up at him, defiant.

"So why did you call me, Sarah?"

"I have to know--you once said you would give me everything I wanted?"

He looked surprised, but then composed himself. "Yes, Sarah. Must I repeat myself? The world, whatever you desire. Be mine, and I will be your slave."

Sarah paused, and then made up her mind. It was a decision that part of her had long ago made, during the obsessive hours of searching and remembering. For some unnatural reason, it seemed the only decision to make. She spoke slowly, "I will be yours, if--"

"You forget, you already are. You said the words."

In a flash, Sarah realized that this was true--though he didn't have to be so patronizing about it. She felt her temper rise, but then collected herself, choosing a different path. "You're right," she agreed. "So now it's time for you to give me what I want."

His lips curled into almost a smile. "Little Sarah's gotten cunning, it seems. So what _do_ you want?"

"Give me my life."

He turned his head to the side to look at her. "When did I give you the impression that I was aiming to kill you?"

"No, I mean, give me this life."

"Explain?"

"You demand everything immediately."

"As do you."

"Give me time," she continued. "Don't reorder it, simply give it. I can't just turn my back and leave what's here. Not yet."

"I see." He circled her slowly. "So you expect me to forget the words you uttered to call me, for me to leave empty-handed, and to allow you to come at your leisure?"

"Yes."

"Why? Why should I indulge that?"

"You said 'everything.' Which is what I want."

"Why not wait until you're done with this life to say those words, then?"

"Because it would have driven me insane. I had to know now. So will you?" she asked calmly, "Break the rules? Be unfair? Give me everything?"

Sarah was challenging him and she knew it. All it would take would be his refusal, and she would be whisked back into the Labyrinth again before she wanted it. She looked at the Goblin King, who was studying her carefully. I'm right, she thought, I have to be right.

An odd look crossed his face, before a satisfied one replaced it. "Well. Everything you shall have. We have a bargain," he suddenly said. The Labyrinth vanished, and they were only in her room again.

Sarah was amazed. He was about to leave. Without her. As simple as that.

"Wait," she said. "I have to know, how many girls have you made that offer to?"

"Does it matter, Sarah? What's said is said."

"I want to know."

"And which offer would that be, Sarah?" he asked knowingly, turning back around.

"You know."

There was a long silence.

He grinned, and suddenly appeared right in front of her. "One."

"Why?" she asked, looking up without taking a step back.

He didn't answer her question. Instead, "I've brought you a gift." On the end of his fingertips there was suddenly a crystal. And as if she hadn't heard it all before, he continued, "It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it'll show you your dreams. But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl..."

"Ordinary girl?"

"An ordinary girl wouldn't have been allowed to leave with my name. The crystal, Sarah. Do you want it?"

Sarah took it.

Jareth was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

When Sarah woke up the next day, the first thing she saw was the distant sunrise. The second was the crystal on her nightstand. Suddenly the thought occurred to her: I promised to return with him some day. Though on second thought, she oddly found nothing wrong with that. It all seemed strangely fitting. She would have ever how much of this life she wanted, and then...Sarah couldn't deny that she desperately wanted her old dreams as well. She could never forget that place--never forget him--and the very thought of never being able to know either again had been maddening. No matter the things of this world that had gotten in the way, in the back of her mind, Sarah had never given up on her dreams. She had always returned to them.

And he would still give them to her. However, he was as elusive as ever on explanations. Sarah suddenly realized that so much of their talk had been an argument over her first words, that she hadn't asked him several things that she had intended to. But the fact that Jareth had allowed her to almost manipulate him was undeniable proof--of something. But Sarah could figure that out later. She didn't think she would see him again until she made the final wish.

She was dead wrong on that account.

"You're up early. Good."

Sarah whipped around, finding Jareth languidly draped across her corner chair. He was spinning one of his crystals around in an almost bored fashion.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped. And how long had he been there?

"Now is that any way to treat me? After I've gone out of my way to accommodate you?"

"I thought you couldn't come unless called!" she protested.

"I can't."

"But--"

"Someone has short term memory, it seems," he remarked nonchalantly. "You _did_ call me. I haven't collected yet. Which means I'm free to come and go until I do so." Her face must have shifted into a look of horror, because he added, "However, I'm only here at present to say a few things which were neglected last night."

"Which are?" Sarah asked, somewhat relaxing.

"Since I'm being so generous--and I am, my dear Sarah," he added, as her face contorted once more. "Since I'm being so generous, I think we should agree on a few parameters."

"Such as?" she asked, then steeling herself for the catch, the trap.

"You said you wanted this life. Fine. However, I've been patient enough, now that I've found you.... No more than twenty years."

Sarah was surprised, but quickly calculated in her head. "Agreed."

"And should I even bring up the topic of marriage?"

Jareth obviously expected some sort of a rise out of her. "No," she said simply. "I won't be getting married. If I thought I would be, I would have never called you."

A look of surprise passed over his face, before his usual mask replaced it. "Well then," he said, rising, "enjoy your 'life.' And despite the convenient ability you've placed me with, I won't be dropping in on you all the time. I hope you won't be disappointed," he smirked.

"Why?" she asked suddenly, moving toward him. "Why all this? So easily?"

"Easily? You think everything I have done I have done easily?"

"No, I mean, why give me what I want, so easily?"

"Must I repeat myself, Sarah? I'll give you your dreams. But if this is what you want right now, you shall have it. And perhaps you need it."

"But that still doesn't explain why--!"

But he had vanished. In the distant sky, an owl was flying.

-----

Sarah began to notice owls, once she started paying attention. Flying overhead, perched on the tip of some tree, sitting on a far lamppost. She wondered how often he had been there before. But as the months went by, she saw him less and less. Finally, she stopped paying attention. And while she completely expected him to show up in full (since he hadn't "collected" her yet), he never did. She was relieved in an odd way.

Sarah went back to her life, and actually felt more normal than she had in years. She knew that it was odd to feel more normal, as her situation had become increasingly abnormal, but she did feel normal. There was nothing to obsess over or discover. And there was a faint sense of satisfaction in her knowledge of the future. Sometimes Sarah wondered what she had ultimately gotten herself into, but any other ending seemed oddly unsuitable.

-----

It was the fall of her freshman year, and Sarah was living in a small apartment just off campus. She was going to a college that focused on the arts, and was taking elective classes in drama and painting, as well as the required courses. Sarah was also taking ballroom dancing. She had a feeling it would come in useful someday.

She thought of Jareth or the Labyrinth surprisingly little, though she still kept the crystal on her nightstand. But Sarah had never looked into it for some reason.

On the whole, she had an average life.

There were several exceptions, however. Little things that happened every now and then, and usually at night.

Once when she had been leaving the library late after finishing a paper, a man had been standing round a corner. He had leered at her, before a horrified look passed over his face and he left, almost running in the other direction. But all Sarah found behind her was the library wall, covered with the twisted shadows of the trees.

Once someone had left her a single black rose on her dresser. There was no name and no card. But it had been five years since she had visited the Labyrinth.

Once when she had locked her keys in her car in a deserted parking lot, the car door had simply unlocked itself after a moment. She had been sitting on the ground with her back to the door in frustration, when she suddenly heard a click. And the car was open.

And then there was the time that the college had held a masked ball one Halloween, the first time that she had actually seen the Goblin King in years. Sarah had gone to the party dateless with several friends. Almost as soon as she had walked in the door, a man who was obviously Jareth had taken hold of her and led her to the dance floor, occupying her time during all the dances. But he never spoke a word, and when time for the unmasking came, he was nowhere to be found.

-----

And so college slipped by. But every now and then, a question would enter Sarah's mind: Why?

Why was her Labyrinth as it was? Why did she have his name? Why did he play these games with her?

And why did she not really care anymore?


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

During Sarah's senior year, something unexpectedly horrible happened to her. She was walking by a building that renovations were being done on when a gas line that hadn't been properly shut off burst. She heard the noise, and felt something lift her off her feet. Then she was sprawled on the ground, her head spinning.

The next thing Sarah knew, she was staring at the hospital ceiling. Her father and stepmother were there. She was informed of what had happened. Her legs, especially on the backside, had been badly burned, half of it third degree. Her heavy leather coat had protected her upper body for the most part. But there would be weeks of healing, and she would have scars.

It was awful, but it wasn't that awful, considering that she could have been killed. Sarah was upset and depressed, but was resolved not to sulk too heavily about something that she couldn't change. Still, it was hard, especially when all she could do was stay in bed, and any movement brought rivets of pain.

A few days later, when her family was there and had gone to eat dinner in the cafeteria, Toby came back up to her room. He had grown into a bright and sensitive boy, and often displayed a rare maturity and insight for someone his age. He approached her bed, and looked at her worriedly.

"Toby, why aren't you upstairs eating?"

"I ate real fast. I wanted to talk to you," he said sympathetically. He glanced at her legs. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"Sometimes," Sarah answered, lying a bit. "They can't keep me completely medicated. And they said it will get worse as it heals."

Toby looked extremely apologetic. Then his face shifted, and he lowered his voice conspiratorially, as if they weren't the only two in the room. "Have you thought about asking _him_ for help?"

"Him?" she asked, puzzled.

He looked from side to side, before he whispered, "The Goblin King."

Sarah's eyes widened. She didn't even think of denying it. Instead, she stammered, "H-how can you even remember that?"

"I don't know. But I do remember. And I think he'd help you."

There was a silence. Then Sarah said, "I don't know. But can you keep a secret, Toby?"

He nodded. "I haven't ever told anyone else about that, even Mom and Dad (they wouldn't believe me anyway)."

"Good. But Toby," she continued seriously, slowly, "I want you to know, that if I ever disappear or something, that you shouldn't come looking for me, and that I'm happy. And promise me that you will never under any circumstances even try to talk to the Goblin King, much less ask him something."

"I promise, Sarah," he said. "But how would I know if I'm asking him something?"

"I'm not telling you the exact words. Just be careful what you say that begins with 'I wish.' I'm serious, Toby!" she exclaimed, upon seeing his face. "It's better if you don't even think about him. Understand?"

"Okay, I promise."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Good."

After a few more minutes, her father and stepmother came back from eating, bringing her a desert. Soon they went home, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts.

-----

It hadn't occurred to Sarah to ask Jareth for help. She had never seen him do anything remotely close to healing. The only way she thought he even could would to be leave with him. Which wasn't sounding like such a bad alternative right now. Her legs did hurt, and even once they finally healed, she would be horribly scarred.

It was just after two in the morning, and the nurse had come in and left moments ago. No one would be back in her room for at least two hours. Sarah had made up her mind. She was about to say the words, when she remembered what he had said about asking.

"I wish I could talk to Jareth, right now," she said instead.

"Sarah." She saw him appear automatically beside her bed. He took in his surroundings, and then looked down at her. His eyes seemed different suddenly. "What happened, Sarah?"

"You don't know?"

"I do have more important things to attend to than being a voyeur."

"I _know_ you've watched me before."

"Only sometimes." She gave a faint smile. "Though perhaps I should have been more attentive. This?" he asked, gesturing to her room.

"There was an accident, a fire. My legs are burned."

"And?"

"And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to take me away now? They wouldn't hurt then would they? It hurts so much now...."

"Do you want to come now?"

"No, but if it would only stop the hurting--"

"Sarah, Sarah," he said, reaching out to barely touch her hair. "When will you figure this out? All you need do is but ask."

"Ask?" Then, "I wish you would make my burns stop hurting?" she finished experimentally.

Jareth moved to stand at the end of the bed, and suddenly two crystals appeared in his hands. He twirled them and twisted them, before flinging them into the air, where they exploded and melted in a shower that fell on her legs. It seeped through the bandages, and felt ice cold for a moment, before a pleasant coolness settled.

Then he was back by her bedside, standing with that look of cool satisfaction on his face. "Anything else?"

"Why? Why do you do this?" she asked, looking up.

"You ask questions already answered."

Then he vanished.

-----

The next time Sarah's bandages were changed, the doctor announced that she was healing remarkably, much more nicely than expected. All subsequent inspections were equally encouraging. When the bandages were removed the final time and she was leaving (much more quickly than anticipated), there wasn't a scar anywhere that even suggested she had once been burnt.

Everyone involved was very pleased with the outcome, especially the construction company, who was now only paying a hospital bill, and not damages as well.

Her family was ecstatic, especially Toby. One weekend when she had been visiting home, he had looked at her with a face eager for explanation.

But she gave him none. "I'm serious, Toby," she'd said. "Don't even think about it. It's not something to play around with, or even talk about. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

He had looked at her with disappointment, but nodded.

Sarah herself wondered what she had gotten into. Jareth had been almost too cooperative. There had to be a reason behind all of it. And she had to find out what it was.


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

It was an evening several days later. She was in her apartment bedroom, pacing once again. As much as Sarah tried not to think of it, she couldn't help it. Everything was a reminder of the vague thing that she couldn't answer. She hated even wearing shorts, because her flawless legs reminded her of something that wasn't explainable by this world.

Why had he given her what she wanted so easily?

"I wish to speak to Jareth." She couldn't wait any longer.

"Yes, Sarah?"

Sarah spun around on him, breaking right in. "I want an answer."

"Answer? To what question?" he asked smoothly.

"Why have you done everything that you have done?

He sighed. "When will this become obvious to you? Because you wanted it, Sarah. If you would be mine, I would give you everything you want. And I believe you are mine now."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Is that not a satisfactory answer?"

"I mean _everything_, from the beginning. I did some research, on the Labyrinth," she continued. "There are several legends and stories about it. And it seems to be a remarkably twisted, evil place to outsiders. Yet I don't remember it as such. Why?"

"Because you wanted it, Sarah."

"I won back Toby merely because I wanted it?" she asked unbelievingly.

Jareth leveled his gaze at her. "You don't think that those pompous words from that ridiculous play actually have power over me, do you? You don't think that you solved the Labyrinth because you were so gifted?" A sudden chill shook Sarah. "You don't think that if I had wanted it, I could have kept your brother (whom I personally attended to, by the way) and sent you back in failure?"

"Then why?" she asked in a small voice.

"Because, Sarah," he said, exasperatingly, "because you _wanted_ it."

"How?" Sarah found herself sinking to sit on the bed.

"I told you: I can hear, and I can watch. Some things I hear more than others. I saw you playing your games. No one ever before possessed so much passion and conviction, so many far-flung dreams. And when somehow you found that old play-- And then I heard you reading the lines, believing and wanting all of it so badly. I couldn't make you say the real words, of course, but when you did--! I took the opportunity, if only to have you for those thirteen hours."

"And what would have happened if I hadn't remembered the line at the end?"

"I would have made some other fatal mistake, naturally. It was all for you! Everything I've done, I've done for you. I turned my entire kingdom upside down because you wanted it to end that way. I destroyed my castle because you wished it."

"But why?" Sarah whispered, a sickening feeling settling in her stomach. It was slowly making horrible sense.

"To bring you to me, Sarah. You were the perfect age for dreams; any younger and you wouldn't have believed any of it later, any older and you wouldn't have accepted any of it then. And I have no power here except to watch, unless called. Once you did, I gave you everything you wanted, everything you expected it to be--if only to give you a memory, so that you would be drawn back. But even then I did all of it, even knowing that you might never come back, knowing I might never be able to speak to you again."

"Then all of it was fake?" she asked, disbelieving. "All the things I saw, all the people I met?"

"No. But the dangers, the outcomes--all were done to suit you. I abandoned my ways--tailored the Labyrinth to you, gave you back the baby--only because your games were that way. It was _all_ for you."

Sarah was silent for a long while. Then she stood up. "Then what you're saying," she said slowly, "is that you did everything in your power to make sure that I would never be happy with my life."

"Were you ever happy, Sarah?"

"I don't know!" she shouted. "You never gave me a chance to know! If I hadn't gone, maybe I would have grown up, without all this--this baggage! It's almost driven me mad, you know!"

"I've seen. However, there was nothing I could do until you _asked_."

"Did you close my connection with the Labyrinth itself, my friends?"

"No. Such magic simply cannot remain open."

"Why didn't you just give me Toby back when I asked in the beginning? That was what I wanted."

"Was it? Weren't you wishing for some grand adventure?"

"Fine, an adventure then. But no--you set your sights from the beginning to do everything that you could to steal me away just as you steal any other child!"

"I cannot take but what is offered, Sarah." Jareth said boredly. "You think other children wanted to come? Someone wished them, they didn't have a choice."

"I know that! But no one wished me away! You had no claim on me! But still, you waited, you watched, you _chose_--like going into a doll shop, pointing, and saying 'I want that one!' You did everything to make yourself happy!"

"I will do everything in my power to make _you_ happy, Sarah. It's what I've done from the very beginning. Everything you wanted, it was done! What more could you ask?"

"How could I know what I wanted? I was only fifteen! My god, you're right about the age--I couldn't forget it and I couldn't deny it. And nothing else could ever compare to it. You ruined any chance I might have had of being happy here!"

"Sarah, we were fated, you and I," Jareth said, sounding oddly genuine. "You deserve everything that this world can give and more. And I can give it. We _need_ each other. Everything! I have done everything you ever asked! I offered you your dreams then; I'll give them to you now, give them to you _forever_."

"How could you?" she said under her breath. "You _stole_ my life!" she whispered. The she screamed it. "_YOU STOLE MY LIFE!_" Sarah felt tears rising in her eyes. She looked down. "Just leave now."

There was a long silence, before Jareth spoke.

"You did wish yourself over to me," he said, suddenly cold. "Regardless."

"I know," she said, staring at the ground. "And I can't change that. However, it remains to be seen whether you will receive a willing companion or a lifeless doll." Sarah looked back at him, and felt the tears washing down her cheeks. "You might have broken me, Jareth. Now go."

A look akin to regret or defeat passed over his face. Then he was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was long into the night, almost morning, actually. She felt numb. She wasn't sure that she _could_ feel anything anymore. From sadness to rage, to depression to fury--she had been over all of them.

Ever since she had returned from the Labyrinth, there had been a cycle--a forgetting normality, an obsession bordering on madness, then a knowing satisfaction that turned into normality once again. She had just been given all the answers she could ever ask for. So now it was time to forget it all until confronted with it again.

But she couldn't simply put it to the side this time. She couldn't even stop thinking about it. So Sarah just stopped thinking completely. For two days, she took sleeping pills and refused to get out of bed at all. Nice a vacation as that was from the real world and the fantasy world, Sarah realized that it couldn't last forever.

So she got up, she went to school. She presented nothing different when around others. But in her mind, the thoughts continued to spin.

-----

Everything that had been done had been done for her. And as wonderful as that sounded on the surface, there was something horribly disturbing lying just beneath it. He had deliberately set out to bewitch her away from everything she had known. From the very beginning, from before she even knew he existed, he had planned to lure her away from this world.

And it had worked.

There was very little true joy that Sarah could find in this world. Especially since she knew for certain that there was more. Though the books and the tales had long ago had her. Of course, she might have grown out of it someday. But then _he_ had arrived, and shown her that every bit of it could be real, if she would only say yes. Eventually, how could she not?

But he had never given her a chance to find happiness here. Apparently, ever since the day Jareth had laid eyes on her, he had decided that she would be it. While there was something incredibly flattering in the fact that she had somehow attracted this...this being (Sarah abruptly realized that she didn't know what Jareth even _was_, but she decided that that was a problem for a different day), there was something slightly unsettling on having him so fixated on her.

He had specifically done everything he could to make her want what he could give her. He had done it all to make her never forget it, make her long for return more than anything else. Manipulation. Sarah wanted to hate him for it.

The problem was, she was fairly certain that she was in love with him--fairly certain, because she had never been in love before.

But he had captivated her in a terrifying way every time that she had seen him in the Labyrinth. After that, she had never forgotten him. Later, when she realized the words that he had said, she became obsessed with finding him again. Then she had accepted his offer of her dreams, a part of her mind knowing full well that that entailed accepting him as well. She hardly knew him, but at the same time it felt as if she had already spent forever with him. And even though she wasn't completely sure of the finer points of what she had accepted, Sarah knew that she would rather spend the rest of her life with him than without him. Besides, a little voice inside her head said, how can you not feel something for someone who's willing to give you anything, everything?

But could she live the rest of her life with him now, knowing what he had done? She might have been perfectly happy with a normal life, but he had never given her the chance to live it without interference.

What if she had never met him? What would have happened to her if he hadn't set out to enchant her away? But there were no answers to the 'what ifs.'

She might have been normal, being ignorantly happy in her safe, static little world.

Or, she might have been just as miserable at this point in her life, except with no way out.

-----

Sarah's life wasn't exactly miserable; it just wasn't wonderful. She had graduated from college with a degree in literature. While she enjoyed being in plays, she soon found out that she didn't have what it took to be a real actress. Though it didn't bother Sarah as much as she thought that it would. She ended up working in a library, which wasn't a bad job in and of itself, it just wasn't very exciting. She still lived in the same small apartment.

Sarah didn't have many friends. To put it more precisely, she had no friends, only acquaintances from classes or work that she saw around town. Not that everyone knew that she didn't have friends, everyone she knew just assumed that she had other friends. Sarah wasn't sure how it had really happened, it just seemed that she had little in common with the people that she met. But then, she felt that no one could really know the real her, for in doing so they would have to believe the unbelievable.

She still had her family, of course, but Toby was her only bright spot. Her stepmother was her stepmother, a woman that would never be close to her, let alone understand her. Her father was becoming more distant and ever more involved in his work, and he rarely had time for anything but the barest small talk. Sarah also privately suspected that they were having marital difficulties.

There wasn't anyone that she could relate to, really talk to.

It wasn't really how she pictured her life at this point. She was out of school, working, on her own--it was supposed to be fun and glamorous, or something by now, wasn't it? What annoyed Sarah the most was that everyone around her seemed to think that this was It. This was all there was to life. While somewhat true, no one else seemed to have any dreams beyond going on vacation next month, not even any dreams about marrying a millionaire and living in some upscale penthouse with a butler, cook, and four maids.

So it was a complete and utter impossibility that any of them would understand or entertain her fantastical dreams. No one here could ever understand her.

The only person in the world who understood her wasn't even of this world.


	12. Chapter 12

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Eventually the realization came to Sarah that no matter how angry at Jareth she was, that it was fading day by day. He had played a horrible game with her, but in a way, what was done was done. There was almost nothing for her here, and he was still offering her everything.

Everything was the only thing he could offer her; it was all he could do. And while it sounded odd to say that he could _only_ offer her everything, it was true. He would have to offer her everything if he wanted her to leave all she knew here.

And ultimately, none of it changed what she wanted. No matter the means by which she had come to them, Sarah still wanted her dreams.

"I wish to speak to Jareth."

Nothing happened.

"Jareth?" she asked, spinning around, knowing that she would find him right behind her, arms folded and smug look on his face.

Nothing. Sarah suddenly became nervous.

"Jareth?"

"Sarah," she heard his voice. She turned again, finding him not present, but only reflected in her mirror against the wall.

"Why didn't you come?" she demanded.

"I wished to see how badly you wanted to talk to me, under the circumstances."

"Circumstances?"

"Last time we spoke, you were rather angry. Perhaps what I did-- I had not anticipated such an adverse reaction from you. But what do you wish to say now?"

"Does it really matter what I say?" Sarah asked. But she caught an odd manner in his voice. Narrowing her eyes slightly and turning her head to the side, she asked a random question that popped into her head. "And what if I said that I didn't want to speak to you ever again?"

"Then I would disappear, and never bother you again."

Something suddenly caught in Sarah's throat. "But you said--regardless--and I did wish--"

"I make the rules, I break the rules." He gave a small, rather despondent smirk. "Truly, I am bound in that I cannot do anything in this world that someone does not first wish. However, I am not _required_ by any means to grant every wish made. For instance, if I took someone every time they were wished away, the Labyrinth would be crawling with humans--and I don't turn them into goblins, before you ask. I'm free to choose which wishes I honor--though sometimes I'm sure sometimes the wishers would rather I not honor them." He paused. "But only what you want, Sarah. And do you really think I wish to have someone here who hates me?"

Sarah's mind was spinning. If she truly never wanted to see him again, Jareth would disappear from her world just like that, throwing her previous words into the wind.

She looked deeply at him from the mirror, trying to discern if he was telling the truth. (Had he ever really lied? she suddenly wondered. Twisted words, yes, warped perceptions, certainly, but lied...?)

Right now his eyes held the promise of an offer--the same offer that he had presented her with since the beginning. Her dreams for eternity. She became conscious that his eyes were silently imploring her to take that offer. If she turned him down, Sarah knew she would never see him again. She realized that he in no way wanted that.

And neither did she.

"I can't forgive you yet for what you did," Sarah began slowly, "but I can't hold it against you forever, either. I can't keep thinking on what might have happened, I can only act on what has happened. I'm not pleased about how you went about it, but I won't waste the rest of my life regretting an angry decision; I would be punishing myself as well by not accepting."

"Then you still accept?" he asked after a moment.

She smiled faintly. "Yes, I still wish you would come and take me away."

Suddenly he vanished from the mirror, leaving her only staring at her own reflection. Sarah panicked for a moment, before she felt his hands on her shoulders and saw him appear behind her. She didn't turn around, but merely stared at his reflection.

"I love you, Jareth," she said. "Do you love me?"

"I always have."

It was silent for a moment. Then she smiled, still looking at him in the mirror. "We need a new rule. I'm sick of you sneaking up on me. No more of this appearing behind me crap. If I say 'I wish,' you had better show up facing me."

Jareth disappeared, and was then suddenly standing in front of her, leaning against the mirror and blocking the view of her reflection. He grinned. "Deal."

Sarah took a step forward, standing only inches away from him. She looked up. "Good."

For a moment nothing happened. Then he leaned down, brushing her lips with a light kiss. Sarah slowly returned it, and felt his hand curving around her back, drawing her closer. She felt her own hands come to rest on his chest and neck. The kiss deepened, but it was still slow, sweet.

They stood that way for a few moments, before Sarah felt Jareth pulling her forward, his grip on her also loosening slightly. The next thing Sarah knew, her face and body were pressed up against the cold surface of the mirror. She stepped back and opened her eyes, only to find Jareth grinning at her from the other side.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, giving the mirror a slight smack with her palm.

He smiled pleasantly. "You never said anything about rules for leaving." Jareth leaned up against the edge of the mirror, which looked rather odd, as if he were only on the other side of a window. Then he then extended a hand through. Now he was leaning on mirror _and_ passing through it. "Join me?" he asked.

"Not yet," Sarah said slowly. As much as she was tempted to take his hand and never look back, she couldn't yet. "But soon."

"This probably isn't the best time to bring this up," he said after a moment, "since I only just got back in your good graces--but it is not necessary for you to leave forever."

"But I thought you could only come when called."

"My power in this world is limited to what someone wishes, yes. However, all that is required for me to come is someone out there to say something along the lines of 'I wish that there was still magic,' or 'I wish there were still things like that in the world.' And then I'm free to come and do as I choose, because merely by being here I've fulfilled the wish."

"I see," Sarah said thoughtfully. "But no, I don't want two lives. I only want one. And I mean to break with this life; there's nothing here for me. I've tried, really, to find something, but there's nothing. I'm sure that's bad, but I don't care. I'm almost through with it; I'll join you, soon. Very soon."


	13. Chapter 13

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah was immensely happy the next few weeks. She had somewhat hoped that her happiness would rub off on her surroundings, but it didn't. In fact, the happier she was, the more she realized that she hated everything to do with Life as it Was.

One day, she simply decided it was time. Since the last time that she had seen Jareth, she had lived her life almost through the eyes of an observer. She was thoroughly disenchanted with...everything. From her favorite corner store to world politics, she just didn't give a damn anymore. Sarah supposed that that was the price for being exposed to magic and dreams--ceasing to care about reality. Though 'reality' was a rather relative term, since the Underground was just as real.

However, before she left everything, she had an impulsive desire to see the world. And while she was sure that Jareth would have taken her where she wanted her to go, or somehow provided her the means to do so, she wanted to do this last thing on her own. The problem was, she didn't have enough money.

Then a brilliant idea occurred to her. Probably illegal, but brilliant. But Sarah found that she didn't care. Nothing in this world mattered anymore. The idea occurred to her that she had indeed finally gone mad. Not insane, but mad in the old sense, the way people went mad in the old stories that she had read. Once exposed to something otherworldly, they simply didn't care for anything of this world, or about anything in this world. What with her recent disregard for everything, Sarah was sure that she was there. This world couldn't give her anything, not even any repercussions.

The next day, she went out and bought a thirty thousand dollar car, setting up the financing with the dealership. She then obtained a loan from a bank for thirty thousand dollars, listing the car as collateral. Sometime in the future, the bank and the dealership were going to come knocking on her door, wanting their money back. It wouldn't be there, and neither would she. There would only be the one car--and they could fight over who got to collect that. Sarah actually began laughing at the thought. Such deception and carelessness--Jareth would probably be proud of her.

Sarah also decided that she needed new clothes. She went shopping, buying herself an entire new wardrobe of only extremes. She bought T-shirts and jeans, and formal gowns, and nothing else. Sarah supposed that Jareth would get her any clothes that she needed, but she wanted to have some things of her own. She needed the practical and the extravagant. And she rather had fun picking out the extravagant. From sleek modern numbers cut just under the knees, to elegant beaded, sequined gowns with yards of flowing skirts that she might have looked overdressed at a costume party in, she bought them. (Though Sarah didn't think she would honestly have a problem being overdressed while around Jareth.) Then she bought new luxurious pajamas, from one-hundred percent silk gowns and robes to matching tops and bottoms made of velvet. She bought expensive lingerie to thick warm socks. And shoes, of course, to go with the dresses.

After several days of these shopping sprees, Sarah transferred the rest of her money into travelers' checks. She also got her passport in order. Back at her apartment, she stacked her new things in their boxes in the center of the living room. In the days that followed, she quit her job and began going through her other things.

Her family was eventually going to realize that something had happened to her. Eventually. Strangely, she didn't feel at all regretful. The only one she was really sad about leaving was Toby, and he would know at least the truth. Upon vacillating on whether to leave her things or clean them out, she decided to leave them. An empty apartment would be much more mysterious and odd than a full apartment, and she intended to leave with as little mystery as possible. She would go on vacation, and simply never come back.

Ever since her little backyard bonfire, she hadn't collected very many material possessions. She left everything as it was, except for the clothes and toiletries that went into her suitcase. Her linens and the rest of her clothes still sat in the closet. Her pots and pans and dishes were left in the kitchen. The few knickknacks that she had sat in their places by the books on the shelves. Pictures were still on the walls and rugs on the floors.

However, she did go through her personal things. Anything which she had written, she destroyed. All financial documents were also thrown out. She closed out all her accounts and then burned all her receipts.

-----

Sarah went to her parents house, under the pretense of telling everyone of her long vacation and bidding them a temporary farewell. Her father and stepmother seemed pleased but uninterested. They gave her the usual pleasantries, but didn't have much time to talk.

However, before she left that night, she pulled Toby to the side and gave him a hug.

"You," she said, "I'm going to miss the most."

He looked back at her and smiled. "You'll bring me back a souvenir, right?"

Sarah held him at arms length. "No, I don't think I will be."

His face fell. "Why not?"

"Toby, do you remember the talk we had in the hospital?"

He nodded.

Sarah hugged him once more, and said softly, "This is one trip I don't plan to return from." After a moment, she let him go. She saw understanding in his eyes. "And you remember what else I said?"

"Yes."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Good." Sarah hugged him once more, then stood up.

"Don't forget me?" he asked.

She smiled. "Never."

Then she stood up, and called into the living room, "I'm leaving!"

"Have a good time!" and "Goodbye!" answered her, but she scarcely heard them or cared.

-----

The next day, Sarah was on a plane. She planned to hit the cultural capitals of the world. She wasn't sure how far she would get, but she was going to go until her money ran out.

On a vacation that lasted for weeks, she hit major cities, looking at the museums and landmarks, and then venturing out into the countryside, getting a taste of the land itself.

France, Italy, Greece, Egypt, England, and so many more...


	14. Chapter 14

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah's money was coming to an end. She had gone most everywhere that she had wanted to go, and it had been fun while it lasted. But now, it would soon be time to begin an entirely different adventure.

Presently she was in Ireland. Her plane had landed in Dublin, and after walking around the city for two days, she had rented a car and taken off into the country. The moors and old village walls were beautiful in a lost, meandering sort of way. She was staying in an inn that night, and planned to drive back to the city the next day. It was actually Halloween, which she had planned, being unable to think of nothing more hauntingly idealistic than spending this day in rural Ireland.

Sarah was going through her suitcase, trying to see how many things she had accumulated. She had tried to shy away from buying souvenirs, but had invariably gotten some. (She hadn't been able to resist buying some pants suits, and dress skirts and blouses while in London.) And just this day, a local woman had persuaded her into buying a good luck horseshoe, especially if she was going to go "drivin' round the countryside by your lonesome on All Hallow's Eve." People here still believed that there were things that came out to go bump in the night. But who was she to argue with them, really, knowing who she knew? Sarah had laughed to herself, and indulged the woman. After all, what did it matter?

But standing in her room as she spun the shoe around her finger, a sudden thought occurred to her.

"I want to talk to you," Sarah said, dropping all formality. She knew he would always hear her direct voice, and it was what she wanted, whether stated as a wish or not. Besides, she didn't think that "I wish" was required anymore of those who were already in his power, so to speak.

She was right.

"Yes?" she heard, as he appeared next to the fireplace. He was dressed rather casually (for him), wearing a white shirt with black pants and boots. "Why Sarah, a little far from home, aren't we?"

"I'm taking a vacation. So? Does this mean anything to you?" she asked, holding up the horseshoe.

Jareth looked genuinely puzzled. "No?" In a loose motion, Sarah tossed the horseshoe not at him, but to the side of him. He picked it out of the air easily, and held it up. "Should it?"

"Can you touch it because you're wearing gloves?"

Jareth seemed confused for a moment, before he actually laughed. "Sarah, don't tell me you thought me some sort of faery?"

"Well, sort of? I mean, what else could you be? What _are_ you?"

He threw the horseshoe up into the air, and then began spinning and rolling it from hand to hand as if it were one of his crystals. "Does it matter?"

"Yes! Since I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with you, I think I'd like to know."

He gave an elegant shrug. "The words for what we are have long been lost in your language. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that they existed in the first place."

"We?"

"I'm certainly not completely alone, though there are merely a handful, so to speak. However, we generally can't endure each other's presence for any lengthy period of time."

"We?" she questioned again.

Jareth made a vague gesture. "We've always been here--the things of the ancient world--watching since before your ancestors built their first cities. There are different names of us in different places, of different times. They called us demons in Japan, gods in old Egypt-- Sometimes we inspired the legends, other times they took ideas and merely applied or confused them with us. None are exactly correct."

"So is there a word...?" she ventured.

"Not by us."

Sarah was now thoroughly enchanted once again. "So how old are you?"

"I recall Rome."

"Which part of Rome? Beginning? Empire? Collapse?"

He shrugged again. "I don't remember. The times of this world have never been my primary concern or interest."

"This world?"

"Don't be dense, Sarah," he said humouredly, still tossing the horseshoe around. "The world of the Underground."

"World?"

"My kingdom is more than the Labyrinth, and the Underground is more than that. In its way, the Underground extends throughout the earth. Don't you find it incredibly coincidental," Jareth continued, "that nearly every people throughout time has had tales of other beings and some sort of hidden world where they primarily lived?"

"I never thought of it like that before."

"Not to mention that the ones who look the most like humans are the most powerful?"

"The most powerful, is it?" Sarah asked with a smile.

He smirked. "But of course, dear Sarah. We rule the Underground, or at the very least don't answer to anyone else." Jareth flipped the horseshoe over in his hands once more, before catching it and holding it up. "You won't mind if I keep this?" he asked. "I'm sorry if you were planning to use it against me..." he trailed off.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Just a silly souvenir I bought that made me think. But why do you want it?"

"Iron is rather hard to come by in the Underground."

"But you said--"

"I never said faeries don't exist. You yourself have seen that there are other things--goblins, dwarves, annoying pixies. And 'faery' is rather a broad category, you know. There are many unpleasant things in the Underground. In fact, it might be prudent for you to have some iron, in addition to my own devices. There are things that it's quite effective against--I just don't happen to be one of them."

Then Jareth grinned and disappeared.


	15. Chapter 15

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. 

-----

"There are things that it's quite effective against--I just don't happen to be one of them."

Then Jareth grinned and disappeared.

"Wait!" Sarah called suddenly.

He faded back into view, looking at her with one eyebrow raised in question.

"I would have the pleasure of a walk on the Irish moor on All Hallow's Eve?"

He grinned, and suddenly they were no longer standing in her room, but on a low rising hill. The moon was bright overhead, though not full, and the land spread out around them. Jareth extended his hand to her, and she took it. They walked the deserted lands, like something out of a fairytale. Long past the village and far-flung country houses, they were.

So Sarah gasped when she suddenly saw dancing lights spring up in the distance. It shocked her, All Hallow's Eve and Old World though it was. A faint tune reached her ears, and even from far away, she could make out flitting shadows as they moved across the lights.

"What are they?" she asked, captivated.

"Otherworldly revelers, obviously. Would you like to join them, Sarah?" he whispered in her ear. "They would welcome us."

"Welcome me or you?"

"Most are delighted to welcome wayward people to their dances. They might or might not be the type to try and lure you away afterward." He grinned. "However, they wouldn't dare. And they would most definitely welcome me."

Enchanted as Sarah was by the distant lights, she was still reluctant. "No. No, let's have our own dance, right here," she said, the idea suddenly seizing her.

Jareth extended his arm.

"You know," she began in an offhand tone as she took his arm, "I wish I was wearing that dark green dress that's in my suitcase?" No sooner had Sarah said it than the dress appeared on her--as was the suspected result. "Some music couldn't hurt," she added hopefully.

"Demanding, aren't we?" But he tossed a crystal up into the air, where it shattered in a cloud of glitter. A rather haunting melody suddenly lingered in the space around them.

Then they began to spin and twist over the land, the music never leaving them, no matter where they moved. The moon rose higher in the sky, casting light on the distant clouds and making the world around them all the more brilliant. Twirling around in this enchanted place, Sarah wondered if she had ever experienced a more perfect moment. It was only him and her, and only now; nothing else mattered.

Though several times out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught occasional glimpses of faces watching them--here one minute, and gone the next. But Jareth didn't acknowledge them, so neither did she. And they kept their distance (rather a good deal of distance, actually).

So others from the Underground were curious about who else was about on this evening. Perhaps curious about what Jareth was doing out here. Perhaps curious what about what a human was doing out here. Perhaps curious about what they were doing out here together.

But Sarah ignored them. What did it matter? She was on the arm of the Goblin King.

-----

It was sometime before dawn when they stopped their impromptu, private ball. The barest fringe of the eastern sky was slowly shading into a light blue. They merely stood now, watching the night in silence.

Perhaps he had sensed a change in her, for when he asked, "You will be coming?" it didn't seem to be so much a question as a statement.

Sarah leaned on his arm. "Yes. Tomorrow."

Suddenly they were standing back in her room at the inn. "When you call," he said. Then he disappeared.

-----

Sarah was woken by the knocking on her door. She groggily remembered that she had asked the landlady to wake her up at ten. Stumbling to the door, she realized that she was still wearing her dress, not even having taken it off before falling into bed.

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Brien," she said as she opened the door.

"My goodness, dearie, you look positively exhausted. Didn't you sleep well?"

"I suppose not," Sarah said. Then she laughed. "I feel like I was spirited away to a mad dance all night."

-----

Sarah packed her bags and left the inn. She arranged for someone else to take her rented car back to the city. Now there was only one thing left to do.

She took a small, already wrapped brown packet out of her suitcase, and mailed it at the local post office. There was no return address, but Toby would know who it was from. Though she had told him that she would send him no souvenirs, she wasn't really--at least not a souvenir of this trip.

Carefully wrapped, and placed inside a small box was a crystal. It was the one that Jareth had given her, the one that she had never looked into. Sarah didn't know if it would show Toby anything, but she had no need of it. She could always get another. But then, she no longer needed something that would merely _show_ her her dreams.

-----

The last anyone saw of Sarah was a young woman carrying her suitcase and walking along a dusty road, which she finally left for the moors themselves. Most gave her no notice, though some queer looks were earned. Of course, no one actually saw her disappearance. And even people here would never truly guess what became of her.

She said the words, and he came.

And she left, whisked away forever to a world of fantasy and dreams, whim and wishes.

But it was real.


	16. Chapter 16

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

Sarah made Jareth take her back to her apartment, to get the things that she had bought. They were still there, of course, stacked neatly in their boxes where she had left them. "You need _all_ of these?" he asked, glancing dubiously at the tall pile. Still, he transported them without further comment.

At least until she started to unpack them all, at which point he said, "I see I am going to have to create you another closet."

-----

The Labyrinth was as she remembered, and yet not as she remembered. With the knowledge that its magic had been tailored for her on her previous visit, Sarah was able to pick out things she recalled, and saw other things which had most likely been twisted into becoming things that were no longer there.

Jareth admitted that the room that looked like the Escher poster had been entirely created for her visit, which Sarah was slightly disappointed at, as she had wanted to revisit it.

He recreated it for her. On his arm, she walked up the walls and danced on the ceilings, as if gravity simply didn't exist. Indeed, no matter where they were walking, it seemed to be down, as her hair and clothing fell normally, and her head never had the feeling of being turned upside down.

When they left the room, Jareth closed the door and Sarah marveled at its location. It was just a door in one of the great rooms, but it was on a wall that was shared with a hallway. She had stood a moment at the room's entrance, looking from the room to the hallway, and the impossible wall that was only a foot thick. There was no space for the Escher room of turning ledges and twisting stairs.

"Don't be dense, Sarah," Jareth had said. "Nothing is what it seems."

To be sure, as Sarah re-explored the Labyrinth, she came upon whole places that should not have fit where they were. It reminded her of something in the Narnia books. Between hedgerows there could suddenly be a forest that opened up for miles and miles and showed no visible signs of being confined within the Labyrinth's winding walls at all. And one could just as easily get lost within these places. There was nothing inherently tricky about them, but if you didn't know how to get back to the Labyrinth proper, you could roam there forever.

One thing that was noticeably different was the castle itself. Well, besides the fact that it was standing tall again, that is. It didn't look as if it had ever even fallen down. Upon asking Jareth if it took much time to rebuild, he laughed and answered, "Only the wave of my hand once you were gone." But what Sarah noticed was that while the castle was still rocky and ancient and slightly dirty, it was no pigsty anymore. And there were hardly any goblins about. Jareth told her that most of the time, the goblins stayed in their town. Actually, Sarah rarely saw any other inhabitants in the castle but she and Jareth.

Which led to several instances of confusion. When Sarah had asked where the kitchen was, Jareth said that there wasn't one.

"The goblins cook their own food in town, but I doubt you'll want any of that."

"Well, what do you eat then?"

"I don't have to eat all the time like you humans do," he responded.

Sarah resisted the urge to throw her hands up in the air. "_When_ you eat, what do you eat?"

"Whatever I want."

"Jareth!"

He grinned and made a gesture with his hand. An apple and an orange appeared. Another gesture produced some muffins. In Sarah's hand there was suddenly a plate of cake.

It turned out that Jareth conjured whatever food he wanted. Sarah at first absolutely hated the idea that she was completely dependent on him for food. But they came to a compromise. Jareth agreed to keep a table permanently stocked with fruit and bread (and sweets), so Sarah didn't feel quite so reliant. She also soon saw the practical advantages to this as well. He could just as easily conjure up french fries and M&Ms as he could five course dinners.

-----

Shortly after her arrival, Jareth gave something.

"To keep you out of trouble," he said. "Forged with iron and magic."

Sarah, remembering much of what she had read while researching various things, replied, "I thought iron was a natural barrier to magic."

"Only to _some_ magic, Sarah. Still, it was somewhat tricky."

It was ring, a small thin band of a shining black substance. Sarah put it on her finger. The metal was smooth and almost black, but a thin layer of a glasslike substance covered the entire band. "What does it do?"

"Binds you to me, for one," Jareth said with a slightly evil smirk. "But it is to help you. The Labyrinth is not a nice place for humans."

"I beat it before."

"You beat what I gave you."

"Are you saying I couldn't?" Sarah demanded.

"What I am saying," he continued, "is that in the years of wandering around here that you have before you, chances are that you are going to step where you shouldn't, at least once."

Sarah didn't have an answer for that.

But the ring certainly did help her. It identified her more or less with Jareth's magic. No pits opened up before her; Labyrinth citizens didn't try to trick her; walls didn't shift behind her unless she wanted them to. It also allowed her a sort of natural connection. She could feel where things were, feel the pull of the magic that hid the hidden doors, and could tell where they led. She could tell the quickest way out of somewhere, and the quickest way to get somewhere else.

The ring's magic was also very cleverly done, she had to admit. The iron was covered by crystal, and wouldn't hurt anyone susceptible that she inadvertently touched. But if she willed it, it could burn. And it had a sort of built in "homing device." If she clenched it, it would take her directly to Jareth. It was also impossible for anyone but herself or Jareth to remove.

-----

Sarah had found Hoggle, of course. Sir Didymus had taken Ludo on a "noble quest" with him, but she was told that they would return within the year.

Hoggle was happy to see her, if a little miffed at the whole situation. Which was understandable, since for all Hoggle knew, the last time she had seen Jareth was when she'd gone after Toby. Sarah explained everything that had happed since then (well, most of it at least).

"Well, I'm glad you're back, I am," Hoggle said after a moment. "And I'm happy for you, I s'pose. But Sarah, why'd you hafta fall in love with _him_?"


	17. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

-----

_Epilogue, or Miscellaneous Glimpses_

One day over ten years later, Sarah was sitting at the vanity in her dressing room brushing her hair. The vanity itself was a great carved affair of dark wood. There were three grand mirrors, and a wide top covered with boxes, bottles, compacts, and jars. Things were haphazardly arranged in a careful way, and it was the kind of encompassing dresser that Sarah had always dreamed of having. There were an odd mishmash of things cluttered around-perfumes in crystal bottles that Jareth had brought her that smelled of the flowers themselves, modern makeup containers and pencils that she had gotten herself, half a dozen jewelry boxes with drawers ajar and the ends of necklaces hanging out of them.

Jewelry was one thing that Sarah hadn't had much of, mainly because it was very easy to spend a lot of money on while buying. But Jareth had taken care of that over the years, presenting her with rings, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, armbands, even tiaras and circlets. The first thing he had given her, a diamond and sapphire necklace, clearly cost more than her "vacation" money several times over. Though Sarah wasn't sure that there really was money in the Underground. Or that Jareth hadn't simply conjured it up. She had never been able to get out of Jareth what exactly he could and couldn't conjure. (Not that she cared if the necklace had been mined from the ground, or if it had been spontaneously thought into existence. Real was real and sparkly was sparkly.)

Still, she had been somewhat hesitant at first, to possess something so obviously nice.

"Don't be ridiculous," he'd said. "I can't have you looking like a pauper."

"I'll hardly look like a pauper in this," she'd said, gesturing toward the yards of fabric that made up her dress.

Still, she hadn't complained as the jewelry had slowly been presented. She had quite a collection now.

Sarah leaned closer to the mirror and pinned up part of her hair. Then she put on her blush, and pulled out a pencil and began to line her eyes. Suddenly she stopped, dropping the pencil and leaning in closer to the light. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

She heard Jareth's step behind her.

"What did you do?" she suddenly asked, swirling around.

Jareth casually leaned against their doorframe. "And what would you be referring to?"

"I look exactly the same."

"This is a bad thing?"

"Well, no. But it's hardly the natural way of things. I mean, I sort of expected that it was going to happen sooner or later."

"Look around Sarah, we're hardly in 'the natural way of things.'" He grinned. "But no, you won't be getting any older. Didn't you take me seriously when I said I would give you your dreams _forever_?"

"But how?"

He pointedly glanced at something.

Sarah looked at her hand. "The ring?"

"I did say that it bound you to me. And my magic. Displeased?"

"Well, no."

"Good. You should wear this tonight." Jareth tossed a dress to her that she was sure he hadn't been holding a minute ago. Sarah caught it as he walked back into the bedroom.

She spread it out in her arms. It was gorgeous affair of midnight blue that looked as if it had jumped right out of the French court of centuries past. The top had ruffles and frills around the neckline, and the bottom looped out into a huge skirt that made her waist look miniscule. (Sarah had long ago decided that even with such dresses, corsets were most definitely not an option.) The whole thing was made of silk and velvet, and the skirt was cut in the front so that half of the skirts and petticoats beneath it could be seen. And they were certainly made to be seen, each made of ruffling materials and dotted with the fine beads that covered half the dress.

Sarah moved to put on the dress, and twirled around, looking at her reflection in the mirror. When she turned around again, matching gloves, slippers, and barrettes had appeared on her chair.

Sarah didn't know where they were going tonight, but she also hadn't asked. It kept things interesting. They might be going to some dance half the Underground away, or they might just be swirling around in whatever dream Jareth had created. She often dressed up once or twice a week, whether they were going anywhere in particular or not. They could just as easily have their own balls. Dreams were a dime a dozen. He gave her all the Valentine evenings she wanted, and mornings of gold as well. Once when she had lamented that the sunrise was simply too short, the next day it had taken twice as long to come up. Sarah had found that tricks with weather and atmosphere were something Jareth could do. He created her portrait in the clouds. He made summer rains that turned into dancing snowflakes by the evening. Foliage would stay in autumn colors forever if she wished it.

Sarah smoothed the fabric of her gown. Jareth had produced several such gowns for her, completely exquisite things that could only be made here, possibly by magic. Sarah had also continued to occasionally get things from aboveground. She went shopping in Paris, London, and New York, with money that she exchanged from gold. She also went up on "fun nights" with Jareth, when some of the others from the Underground could easily come up, such as Halloween and Midsummer's Eve. Together they danced away select nights on Earth around the dotted fires, spinning and whirling through the lonely wilds, sometimes alone, sometimes with others. Unlike the first time that she had seen them, Sarah did accept Jareth's invitation to dance with the twirling, otherworldly figures, some of whom she had met throughout the years.

Sarah had gotten a reputation in the Underground as being cold and beautiful and distant, if a little mad and impulsive at times. She had gotten it simply at first by being with Jareth, who had that reputation, but she had done nothing to correct it. She found that it suited her in an odd way. Sarah had found over the years that she was more like Jareth than she had first realized. Both of them were incredibly willful and selfish, though it seemed to work for them, not against them. Instead of disregarding each other, they tended to disregard everything else, and do only what they desired, seeing only each other.

Though several times in the past few years Sarah had seen Toby. Sarah had "looked in" on him throughout the years, but on the Halloween after his sixteenth birthday she had appeared in his room. He had instantly recognized her, and she had wordlessly extended her hand. Toby took it, and she (and Jareth) spirited him away to dance until dawn half the world away. Sarah had repeated this several times, and Toby always came with her. They had surprisingly little to actually say to each other during these meetings; there was more of just an unspoken acknowledgement. Though once Toby had told her, "I'd always believed there were things, ever since what happened when I was little. But I've never stopped believing in them. And now my sister's one of them."

Sarah pulled on the gloves, the finishing touch to her ensemble. She came out of the dressing room into the bedroom, where Jareth was waiting, dressed in an attire of deep gray silk. He extended his arm, and she took it, giving him a sideways smile as they left. She still thought that he always looked the very part of the Goblin King when dressed formally.

Once Sarah had asked Jareth why exactly he was the Goblin King. He'd said because it suited him. Sarah, on the other hand, had absolutely refused to answer to the title of Goblin Queen, and Jareth had eventually stopped even teasing her with it, she had reacted so vehemently. Though he'd asked her exactly why it was fine for him to be the Goblin King, but wrong for her to be the Goblin Queen.

"Because," she had insisted, "it just doesn't have the same ring to it. 'Goblin Queen' sounds like someone who's an old hag."

So Sarah had remained titleless, at least until one day when she heard something which she readily adopted. Apparently the lady of the Labyrinth was the description that had begun to float about for the beautiful woman who was seen moving throughout the Labyrinth, sometimes with the Goblin King, sometimes without.

She liked the sound of that, the Lady of the Labyrinth.

-END


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